


said the Spider to the Fly

by ElasticElla



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, F/F, mentions of alec & lydia and alec/magnus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 22:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6169105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Naturally everything goes to hell on a slow Sunday morning that Lydia was very much enjoying, pouring over the latest efficiency reports while eating a blueberry muffin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	said the Spider to the Fly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [katiesaygo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiesaygo/gifts).



Married life is treating Lydia particularly well. It's easier- smoother- to run the institute with Alec at her side, and they make a particularly efficient team. The troublemakers, namely her new sibling-in-laws, have stopped going on unapproved missions, and Lydia gets to create a whole new to-do list, having finished the initial one. 

She hadn't dared to dream of accomplishing so much in New York, and she writes her parents weekly updates on her newly improved life. 

The bedroom upgrade is extra decadent, and she's sure she has her mother-in-law to thank for that. Maryse doesn't seem to know it's a platonic marriage, and Lydia certainly isn't going to be the one to enlighten her. No matter how big the bed is- and really, _what_ was the point in such a ginormous bed? after a certain point you're just wasting space- Alec still manages to kick her whenever they share. 

A habit he was very red-faced to learn about, and Lydia encouraged him to stay over at his lover's whenever possible. Which happily, was rather often now that his parents were back in Idris, leaving Lydia with uninterrupted sleep and no new bruises upon waking. 

Naturally everything goes to hell on a slow Sunday morning that Lydia was very much enjoying, pouring over the latest efficiency reports while eating a blueberry muffin. 

“-we have to get Simon back!” an angry voice yells that Lydia has come to associate with red-headed flight risk. 

“We are _not_ charging into the vampires' hotel,” Alec says, and Lydia turns to see the four. Alec's fresh from Magnus's, and it's tempting to wipe the bits of silver glitter off his jaw, but that would require relinquishing either her reports or muffin- and she's not ready to give either up yet. 

Isabelle's lounging on the wall, still half asleep, and Jace is standing protectively behind Clary, arms crossed. It's a typical enough picture, and lately she hasn't even felt as much like an outsider to their little clique. 

“We can't leave him,” Jace grumbles, and Clary beams at him. 

“This Simon,” Lydia says, “he's a mundane? The vampires broke the accords?” 

“He's a vampire,” Alec says. 

“Though they did kidnap him before while he was a mundane,” Izzy adds. 

“We got him back,” Jace says defensively. 

“Simon is supposed to check in daily,” Clary says, “he hasn't for the last two days. We need to go to the hotel, you know that's where they're keeping him.” 

The four start talking over each other, different plans of attack and retrieval, some which the Clave- nor she or Alec- would _ever_ approve. (Live vampire bait is _never_ a good idea, merlin, how did Alec grow up with these people?)

With a quiet sigh, Lydia finally puts down her muffin and reports, turning her full attention to the vampire problem. 

“Who is in charge of the New York vampire clan?” 

Alec and Izzy answer together, but with different names: “Camille Belcourt.” “Raphael Santiago.” 

“Raphael wanted to stay on our good side- he wouldn't take away Simon's phone,” Izzy says. 

Alec shrugs, and Jace says, “We saw Raphael take over the clan, Clary even punched her-”

Lydia pinches the bridge of her nose, thinking up and discarding a few plans. 

“Who was with Clary?” she asks. 

Clary rolls her eyes, “Jace was with me, and Simon.”

“Neither of you are coming-”

“What? You can't do that- he's my _best friend_ -”

“I've dealt with Raphael before-”

Lydia should have had coffee instead of her usual tea this morning. 

“Either of you being there could ruin negotiations with Camille, you know vampires have a tendency towards vanity,” Isabelle says, and Lydia could kiss her. (...not that she would. The institute doesn't have nearly enough people their age to inter-date each other without disaster, and her new sister-in-law probably isn't the best choice anyways for a low drama lover.)

Alec frowns, “Belcourt has met all of us.” 

Lydia's lips purse, but there is one plan left that could plausibly work. Well, one short-term plan that's most likely to get Simon back in one piece quickly and not requiring any paperwork. 

“I'll be meeting with Ms. Belcourt alone then.” 

.

Camille agrees to meet at sundown on neutral ground a little too quickly for Lydia's liking. Either the vampire is counting on Lydia having no jurisdiction over a fledgling, or her hold on the clan is loose enough that someone else might have Simon before negotiations even end. Or there's something she wants, indubitably something the Clave would never allow to be traded for a downworlder, and Lydia will have to be extra vigilant to make sure none of the others, namely Clary, don't try to do the trade behind her back. 

Lydia _hates_ getting caught up in downworlder business- there are always too many variables, and there's no nice easy flow-chart to follow like in demon hunting. At least this way the others can't possibly muck anything up or trip their way into a war. (It'd been tempting to say no, to disallow anyone from going after the new vampire. But unfortunately, she knew Valentine's daughter would go anyways, and they can't risk her falling into the wrong hands.)

Nothing good ever comes from the lesser of two evils, Lydia idly thinks, and she's having a hard time imagining this meeting going well. At least she's getting a freshly made cinnamon roll out of this, that has to negate some of the inevitable headache and damage control that will follow tonight. 

The mundane cafe is surprisingly good, and situated near a few colleges, Lydia supposes it isn't odd how very busy it is for a Sunday night. Camille slips in with a crowd, and Lydia feels her before she sees her, primly clasping her hands together to avoid her fingers' urge to grab any available weapon. 

“You must be the institute's new leader, Lydia Branwell,” a smooth voice says, and Lydia gestures to the seat across from her. 

“Co-leader,” Lydia corrects. “What do you want for the boy?” 

Camille laughs, “Well aren't you a direct one. What are you offering?” 

And this, _this_ is exactly why Lydia hates going off-script. 

“I'm sure we can reach an agreeable trade faster if I have an idea what you're after.”

“You'd rather move faster?” Camille asks, eyes glittering, “I hardly know you.” 

Lydia's smile is beginning to feel overly forced, a dull ache in her cheeks. God, she hates playing the nice diplomat. 

“My first concern is that Simon is safe- I understand his method of communication has been taken away?” 

Camille's lips curl up, “Ah, yes, he'll be getting his phone back soon. We were trying to avoid shadowhunters interfering with our… restructuring.” 

Lydia nods, “And he'll be free to go to and from your hotel?” 

Camille laughs, “A fledgling like him? Of course not. He has yet to be fully trained in fighting and controlling his instincts.”

“Right,” Lydia says, and it makes sense. It all falls into place a little too simply, and she still hasn't figured out why this meeting is happening if the boy isn't being held hostage. 

“I am curious,” Camille starts, a delicate hand propping her chin up. “What was your plan of action? Would you have gone to war over a _mere_ downworlder? Have our rights and worth blossomed overnight somehow?” 

Lydia sucks in a breath too soon, and a cruel smile unfolds over Camille's lips. 

“I think I've changed my mind, it would be rather silly not to use such a _valuable_ bargaining chip. Let's see, new legislation, some council seats, maybe even being treated as equals. Impress me little Branwell.”

Lydia's polite mask may have already dropped, but she's careful not to betray any emotions- especially the worry or doubt churning in her gut. 

“How long do I have?”

Camille looks utterly delighted, “A month. By then the boy will either be ready for the real world or put down.”

“Okay,” Lydia accepts, mouth dry. A rescue mission was obviously out of the question, would set precedents that the Clave would be loathe to follow, and Camille knew that, the manipulative vampire. 

“I always seal deals with a kiss,” Camille says, a last teasing challenge. 

Lydia knows she's lying, knows Camille knows that she's lying, and knows she could walk away now and the boy would still be safe. But there's something a little too seductive about such red lips that would rip the world apart to simply elevate herself and her kind. Lydia's always had a soft spot for competence, no matter how unique or terrible, and she leans across the table to kiss Camille. 

She tastes addictive, like power. And too late Lydia realizes what a mistake it was- she could never go back to not knowing what Camille tasted like, felt like. Wouldn't be able to keep her heart from racing around her. 

Camille's satisfied smirk suggests that was part of her plan, and Lydia shouldn't enjoy being trapped so.


End file.
